Treacherous
by TheEmmaOlsen
Summary: "Having what we have is treacherous, especially in a place like District 12. But when I am with him, I feel like nothing can bring me down." Madge Undersee, privileged daughter of the Mayor, has everything, but she is trapped. Gale Hawthorne, sole provider for his family, wants nothing more than to take the Capitol down. When they meet, a quiet fire will start that changes it all.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! This is gonna be my very first fanfic ever. I am in love with The Hunger Games trilogy and even more in love with the fanon pairing of Gale Hawthorne and Madge Undersee. This is going to be a Fanfiction about Gadge connecting while Everlark is in the Games and all the tricky things that come with that. Madge is feisty, Gale is rebellious, together they are perfect. Okay, without further ado, I give you the first chapter of Treacherous. I hope you like it. **

_One year before the 74th Hunger Games _

Summer nights in District 12 are a bit like the district itself: suffocating, hopeless, and unmerciful. Tonight, a sticky, hot August night, is no different. The air is heavy with moisture and heat. If you look into the distance, you can see the hot air rippling off th gravel road. It is hard to get a breath of fresh air, what with the humidity and coal dust floating around. The sun is setting, but there are about 2 hours of daylight left. Somehow, my father thinks this is a perfect time for a garden party.

Daddy dearest has invited 25 of our closest friends in the district and their children for dinner and a soirée in the backyard. He has no regard for the fact that this may actually be the hottest day of the year. Sweat is making its way down my back, and I have only been outside for about five minutes. Father sent me on an errand to pick up some cookies from the bakery for the party tonight, and also to remind the Mellarks what time to come over. Of course the Mellarks are invited. My dad wants to set me up with one of the sons. Preferably, the middle one- Rye, I think his name is? Anyways, whoever I marry has to be worthy of being the Mayor's husband. My father and I don't exactly see eye to eye on what "worthy" means.

When my dad envisions someone worthy of the lifestyle that we as the mayoral family lead, he thinks of a rich, upstanding boy from town who is a little older than me and has another way to provide for the family. Rye fits the profile exactly. He can work at the bakery while being married to me, and he is a good representation of what District 12 merchants are like. Snobby, selfish, and always looking to climb the social ladder. But that kind of man is not for me. I don't care where the person I'm married to is from. All that matters to me is whether I love him or not. And I most definitely do not love Rye Mellark.

That thought carries me all the way to the bakery, giving me something to hold on to for the night. I push the frosted glass door of the bakery open, and hear a bell ring to notify whoever is behind the counter that a customer has arrived. Lucky for me, the youngest Mellark, Peeta, is working the cash register today. Peeta is one of my closest friends. He is the kindest boy I have ever met, always quick to smile and slow to judge.

"Madge!" He says, grinning, when he sees my face. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for the party tonight?"

"Actually, that's what I'm doing right now. I need 3 dozen of the famous Mellark cookies," I reply, smiling back at him.

"Coming right up!" he says, pulling out a cardboard box and beginning to fill it with soft sugar cookies, delicately frosted with flower designs. "Did you do those?" I ask, gesturing to the cookies with a jerk of my head. "Yeah," he says, a sheepish smile growing on his face.

"They're beautiful," I respond.

"Well, thank you," Peeta says. "Can't wait for the party tonight! What time should we be over?"

"Around 7:30 would be perfect."

"We'll be there. Bye, Madge."

"Bye, Peeta!" I say with a wave as I push my way out of the bakery and into the heat of the setting sun. I take my time on the walk home, trying to stay out of the house as long as possible. It's not that I hate parties, or my father, for that matter. I just hate that we can pretend to be so carefree and happy in the face of the Capitol.

Growing up in the Mayor's household, I know what the Capitol does better than anyone. I see how any signs of resistance are immediately squashed with an iron fist in all of Panem, not just my small district. I see how many children are forced to take out tesserae so they can eat. Meanwhile, I am living in the lap of luxury, what with my pretty white dresses and hair ribbons. And there is nothing I can do about it. As I near my father's house on the back road that weaves through the Merchant section of the district, I feel dread rest in my stomach like a rock to the bottom of a pot of stew. The staff, consisting of a housekeeper, two maids and a butler, are busy setting up lanterns and carrying out tables, all in anticipation of the party. Another thing that incites anger in me in regards to this party is that it is being held right after the Reaping. Although both kids who were chosen were from the Seam, it seems viscerally wrong to celebrate in the face of such cruelty. My father would say that we are celebrating because "none of our own" were sent off to die. But it just feels unnatural to relish in someone else's pain.

"Miss Madge!" My housekeeper, Appolonia, runs up to me, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Appolonia was sent to us directly from District 2 at the ripe old age of 20. Whatever reason a well-to-do girl from one of the Career districts was doing cooking and cleaning for the mayor of District 12 was beyond me. I have tried to figure out Appi's story many times, but her lips- and those of my father's- were sealed on the matter. "Your father is looking for you. He says he needs you to get ready for the dinner tonight."

"I'm on my way in, Appi," I say back. "Oh, and give these to my father, would you? He requested them especially." "Sure thing, Miss Madge." I push the screen door open and walk into my house, the cool blast of a fan hitting me as soon as I slip into the kitchen. I sigh in relief. I have no idea how tonight is going to go, or if I'll have to walk in to cool off every five minutes. Worst comes to worst, the whole party will be crammedinto the kitchen, hoping to stand in front of the cool air. I sure hope that doesn't happen. Either way, tonight's party is not something I'm looking forward to.

"You look _gorgeous_, Miss Madge!" Appolonia stands in my doorway, surveying my outfit. Tonight I'm wearing a pristine, brand new white dress imported straight from the Capitol. There are no sleeves, just straps as big as two of my fingers put together. It is tight right over the bodice area, then flares out just below my waist. This dress is _very_ figure flattering, and my father bought it just for the occasion. My father bought me a dress to impress Rye Mellark. I shake my head at my reflection. He will not win, not tonight. I pull my closet doors open and rifle through the clothes inside until I find what I'm looking for- a conservative, midnight blue cardigan sweater. I don't care if I have to stand in front of the fan all damn night, this party will not be one full of lustful glances from the Mellark boy.

I pull the sweater on over my dress and instantly the room feels hotter. "Miss Madge, why did you put that sweater on? It looked great, you didn't need to add anything," Appi asks. I look at her. She was once beautiful, but hard work and stress has aged her unnecessarily. Green eyes, pale skin, and graying caramel colored hair. A slightly lumpy body adorned with a simple, long, gray skirt and white t-shirt. This is my stand-in mother. She knows all my secrets, even the ones that I don't even tell my biological mom. She knows that my father is setting me up with the baker's son and I don't like it one bit. One look at my face and she understands exactly what I am doing.

Appi leaves the doorway and I finish getting ready. My feet slide into white, strappy sandals with a slight wedge. I pull my hair into a high ponytail to get it off my neck and tie it with a blue ribbon that coordinates with my sweater. I face myself in the mirror again. I look like myself- wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, creamy colored skin. "Madge!" My father calls me from downstairs. This means the first guest has arrived and I have to come say hello.

As I descend the stairs, I strain to see who the first person to get here was. I have a sneaking suspicion it is the Mellarks, as the she-devil who is Cassidy Mellark is just as supportive of a union between me and Rye as my father is. My suspicion is confirmed when I catch a glimpse of five very blonde heads, four of them male. I come to stand next to my father in the kitchen and smile at Peeta. I nod politely at Rye and simply half-smile at the rest of the family. "Hi, everyone."

"_Madge_! You look _amazing_. Was that dress brought in from the _Capitol_?" Mrs. Mellark asks, elbowing Rye as she does so. Rye, slow on the take-up, gets the message after the third elbow in the stomach. "You really do look gorgeous, Madge," he says. His eyes travel over my body, appraising me. I turn towards the counter, where various appetizers and drinks are set out. This way he can't see me as well, and I'm acting as a gracious hostess. "Would anyone like anything to eat or drink?"

Just as the words escape my lips, there is a knock at the door. More people. Quickly, I say "I'll get it!" and rush to the front door. God, I hope it's Delly. I need an ally right now. As I pull the door open, I realize that the odds must not be in my favor, because not only is it not Delly, it's my worst enemy. Lavinia Hughes, in all her curly haired, big chested glory is standing in front of me, flanked by her two parents. The Hughes' run the apothecary in town. But the problem that Lavinia and I have is that she somehow thinks that I actually like Rye Mellark. She's had the hots for Rye since she was 5, so our potential arranged marriage does not please her one bit.

"Madge!" she says, fake smile on her face. "It's so good to see you!" Her eyes are twinkling with hatred, her back straightened and chest pushed out in a defensive stance. "You too, Lavinia," I say, returning her fake smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, I'm so happy you could come." I get a nod in response from Mr. Hughes, but Mrs. Hughes does absolutely nothing. I open the door wide for them, shut it, and take a half second to close my eyes and calm down. I can't wait for Delly to get here. She and I have been friends ever since she shared her crayons with me in first grade she knows me better than anyone, except maybe Appolonia. Delly also has the semi-annoying tendency to see the best in absolutely everyone. Except maybe President Snow.

As if on cue, one Delly Cartwright bursts through the door with a squeal. "MADGEEYY!"

"Hey, Dell," I say, giving her a big hug. "You have no idea how happy I am that you're here. No idea."

"Oh, is your dad forcing Rye on you?" she asks, smiling at me sympathetically. "He's really not that bad."

"Delly, I know that!" I exclaim. Her parents walk past us and I lower my voice. "I feel absolutely nothing for him. Nothing. I can't marry someone I don't love."

"Who says this is about marriage?" Delly asks, leading me into the kitchen.

"My dad."

"Oh yes, your dad. Ever the forward thinker. He's really just trying to look out for you, you know."

I start to say something, but then we are swarmed with people and I can't anymore. I wonder if this will be how it is for the rest of my life. Never being able to make decisions for myself, reduced to quiet rebellion. Leaving my life up to others.

* * *

><p>I feel like I'm suffocating. Rye Mellark has just asked me to be his girlfriend. In front of the entire party. I feel their eyes on me, expecting me to say yes, say anything at all. But I am frozen- stock still in the middle of my backyard. Lantern light casts an orangey glow over everything, making it seem like I am in the middle of a hellish nightmare.<p>

It is unforgivingly hot, and I feel my sweater sticking to my skin. What do I say? If I say yes, which is what everyone is expecting me to say, I will please my father, the Mellarks, and the entire Merchant district. I will pretend to be happy and I will go on dates with Rye that are awkward and void of feeling. If I say no, I will horrify everyone here and embarrass my father and Rye. This party will disband quickly, and I will be grounded. Appi will be my only companion for the next month. The reality of these possibilities washes over me, and I realize I am stuck. Damned if I do and damned if I don't. My stomach starts to churn. I am struck with a sudden dizzy feeling, and my heart begins to beat at a breakneck pace. "I need to sit down," I force out between pants. "Madge?" My fathers voice is accusing, as if he is saying, _Don't you ruin this for me_. I can't focus on anything but the lightness in my head and how incredibly hot the room has become and then I am falling and everything goes black.

* * *

><p>"Miss Madge?" Appi is leaning over me, a concerned look on her face. A cool cloth is on my forehead and I am laying on top of the covers on my bed. I sit up with a jolt. "I fainted. Didn't I?" I ask, trying to figure out what exactly is going on.<p>

"Yes, about 20 minutes ago. Your father is very worried, but something from work came up, and he's at the Justice Building."

"What about the party? What about Rye and Peeta and Delly?" I am terrified that they are all still here and that I will have to face them and tell Rye that I will date him. I really had no choice there.

"Everyone went home. But your friend Peeta said he'd come by to check on you." Sweet boy.

"So why did I pass out? What happened?"

"You were overheated and stressed. Putting the cardigan on was not a good idea."

Really, I feel fine. A little tired and a lot stressed, maybe. But I'm not light headed anymore. I just have to get out of this house. I can't stay here, because I will have to deal with the staff and my parents looking at me, ashamed. I need to get away for a little.

I get out of the bed and stand up. "I'm going out," I say, marching out the door as I go. Appolonia follows me, asking questions like "Where are you going? Why? When are you getting back?"

"Appi, I'll be back before morning. If my father asks, tell him that I'm fine and that I went out. And that I'll be back."

With that, I push the back door open and walk away from my house, as far as I can. I don't even know where I want to go, just that I don't want to be anywhere near anyone who was at my house tonight. I need peace, I need somewhere to clear my head where no one will bother me.

And then it hits me. I need the Meadow.

* * *

><p>The Meadow in front of the fence surrounding the district has been my place ever since fifth grade, when I found out that my mother was sick, and she was not going to get better. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I ran out of my house crying hysterically, running as fast and as far as I could until I reached the fence. I was in the Meadow, a grassy field that seemed to be seperate from District 12. The wind rustled the dry grass, the sun shone brighter than it did in town, and best of all, I could see the woods through the chain-link fence. It looked so full of life. What a sharp contrast to the other side of the fence. But the Meadow had some other quality that calmed my soul. I couldn't describe it, but it made me feel like I could escape this place that was Panem, even if it was for a few hours. From then on, whenever I needed comfort and peace, the Meadow is where I went.<p>

Tonight the Meadow is dark and quiet, save the noises of animals beyond the fence. The stars and moon are brilliant with light, and it reflects over the grassy field. I pick a spot to sit, facing the fence but still close enough to the district that if I wanted to, I could flee from Peacekeepers into the depths of the Seam. I lay back and watch the stars, letting my problems fade away. All there is is me and the universe. And...someone else?

At the sound of footsteps I shoot upward scouring the darkness for the source of the noise. A tall, obviously drunken boy stumbles out of the shadows and into the grass, as I watch. Then I realize who this boy is- Gale Hawthorne. Gale is Katniss Everdeen's best friend and hunting partner. I have met him through Katniss and also because he sells me strawberries. It astonishes me to see him drunk. I never took him for the drinking kind of person. I always saw him as fiercely devoted to his family, willing to do whatever it took to keep them alive. Never one to put them in jeopardy. If a peacekeeper found him drunk, he would be imprisoned.

Gale is about to sit down in the grass when he realizes he is not alone. He looks over at me, narrows his eyes, and says with a slurred voice: "Who're you?" His gray eyes are cloudy with alcohol, his senses not as sharp as they normally are. "Were you at the party at that kid's house? That was a wild night." He starts laughing out loud. "Crazy for us to be having fun when Olive and Bram are gone, dead. No! Not crazy, wrong. Like the Games. The Games are so wrong." I have had my quiet opinion about the immorality of the Capitol and the Hunger Games ever since I became aware of the world. But I have never heard someone voice rebellious thoughts. It doesn't surprise me that Gale feels the way he does- his family has had to face the scary possibility of one of their children being taken from them for years. He continues this string of rebellious thoughts. "It's not like anyone cares about the tributes. They're just a piece of sick entertainment for a few weeks and then they're _gone_. And all because of the fucking President! Our sorry excuse for a President. More like a dictator." If anyone heard what he was saying besides someone who agreed, he could be killed for saying those things. "I agree with you," I say. "Most people do. But you might want to be careful what you say. You never know who's listening."

"I DON'T CARE!" He booms. "Not anymore. Fuck the Capitol!"

"Gale. You should care about someone finding out about you saying something like that. You could die."

It's only because he's drunk that he's saying this, I know it. But he needs to be more careful.

"Why do you care?" He says accusingly. "You in your fancy white dress from the Capitol and your new shiny shoes and your big house and your _garden parties_." He is scoffing at me. "You have no idea what the Capitol does, little miss Mayor's daughter."

"Wrong," I say. "I have seen way more than you know. You are the one who has no idea what the Capitol does."

"It doesn't matter anyway," he retorts. "You've never had to starve or see your little _siblings_ starve. You've never had to go without. Never. You have more than anyone!"

"Like I could control that! It's not like I picked what family I was born into, Gale. I can't control how much money my _father_ has."

"One day none of this will matter. One day, the Capitol will be a pile of smoking ashes. One day, _I_ will have more money than _you_!"

"Be careful, Gale!" It's only when I say this that I realize how close we are standing. I cam feel the heat radiating off of his body, smell the whiskey on his breath. He is beautiful, even intoxicated. Especially intoxicated. I shake off this moment of temporary attraction and say in a low voice: "Like I said before, you could be killed for that. Your family needs you."

I see his eyes ignite in a silver fire, watch him stand up straight. He is ready to yell at me.

"Save it, Gale. It won't change anything."

And then I leave him.

**A/N: Please review and tell me what you think. I write to please you!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Gadge is perfection. I want Liam Hemsworth to touch my body. The end. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Agh, long time, no update! I'm SO sorry to all of the reviewers/favorites/followers of my last chapter. I have just been super busy and I know that's a terrible excuse. BUT! Here is the second chapter and I will start working on the third ASAP so I can have it up as quickly as I can. I hope you like it. **

Today is the one day of the year in which I live in a state of perpetual fear. The day of the Reaping. The day where two children are sent off to die. Coming from District 12, we don't have much hope to begin with, but when three fourths of our tributes are weak and malnourished, our chances are cut in half. If I got chosen, I wouldn't have a prayer of winning. I've never used a weapon, never had to fight to survive. My father does everything he can so I don't get reaped- because believe it or not, the people who are picked for the Games are oftentimes not picked randomly. If my father performs well in his duties, I have less of a chance of being picked. If he acts out, my chances double. I don't exactly know how it works this way, but I know that's what my dad has been told.

This morning has absolutely sucked. I woke up to the sounds of my mother's screams- she gets this way every year on Reaping Day. Her twin sister was chosen when they were my age, and clearly didn't make it back home. My mother has been scarred ever since. Then I tried to play the piano, just to calm my nerves a bit. When I can't go to the Meadow, I play music. It has the same soothing quality that being at my favorite place does. Problem was, my hands were so shaky because I was so scared that nothing I played actually sounded good. Now, I am sitting at my kitchen table, staring at a glass of water. Not drinking it, just staring. I am reminded of my first Reaping, being so afraid I couldn't eat or drink anything. I was so worried I'd end up like my aunt Maysilee. Now I am at the age she was when she was reaped, and I feel that old fear just as intensely as if it was yesterday.

There is a knock at the door, and I groan because I know exactly who it is. Gale and Katniss, come to sell strawberries. Ever since last summer in the Meadow, I have avoided Gale Hawthorne like the plague. I guess he was as equally weirded about by our little encounter as I was, because he never tried to say anything to me. Not once. Although, he does make a habit of staring at me with an evil look on his face whenever I even pass by him in the hallway. Classy.

I push myself up from the table and walk over to the door, swinging it open wide and leaning against the doorframe. I haven't even said a word when a flying dart comes out of his mouth. "Pretty dress," he says with a sneer. There is such a strong double meaning to that comment. Especially since I'm wearing the exact same dress as I was when we talked (well, argued) last year in the Meadow. His eyes flit over me for a moment, and I remember that I'm not wearing a sweater. And it's not dark out. Why did I choose this dress, again? But I won't let Gale get away with that kind of barb. Two can play at this game.

"Well, if I'm going to the Capitol, I want to look nice... Don't I?" I smirk as soon as the words have escaped my lips, staring straight back at him. This angers Gale, his eyes shining with that silver fire again. "You won't be going to the Capitol," he growls. Then his eyes fall on the solid gold pin resting against my chest. The pin is an encircled mockingjay, and I watch his eyes widen as he takes it an. A wealthy rebel? I doubt he's heard of such a thing. He struggles to recover from the double fisted blow I just dealt for a second. Then he speaks again. "What can you have, five slips? I had six when I was just twelve years old." This is a low cut, and I distinctly remember telling him off when he said something a lot like that in the Meadow.

"That's not her fault." Suddenly I remember that Katniss is here. She is standing on Gale's left, and looks thoroughly shocked at both of us. I wonder if Gale told her about what happened. I wonder if he even remembers it. He must, if he made that comment about the dress. "No, it's nobody's fault." Gale shakes his head, and I see how scared he truly is. Just for a second, I see him vulnerable. "Just the way it is." I press my lips together and place the money in Katniss' hand.

"Good luck," I say, giving Katniss a nod. "To both of you." I look at Gale now, and see that his eyes have become cold. They look like steel. Then I shut the door and go back inside, anxious for the day to come.

* * *

><p>I walk into the square and scan the area quickly, looking for the check-in station. A rickety stage is set up in the middle of the square, with three chairs and a microphone, along with two tables with big glass balls on them. The bowls are filled with tiny slips of paper, each with someone's name on it. I have five. Katniss has twenty. And Gale has forty two. I can't imagine what that would be like, knowing that the odds really are not in my favor. That in fact, the odds are against me.<p>

I walk over to the check-in table and stand in a quickly moving line of scared teenagers. While I wait, I look for Katniss and Prim. I've talked to Prim a few times, she's maybe the sweetest girl I've ever met. Everything about her is genuine. I spot Katniss first, standing in a clump of sixteens from the Seam. She's staring right across the square, at Gale. They seem to be having a conversation of some sort, with their eyes. "Next?" A Peacekeeper's voice breaks into my thoughts, alerting me to the fact that I had been staring at Katniss and Gale for the past few minutes. I hold out my hand and she takes a small device with a needle at the end and pricks my finger. It stings, but not too badly. A tiny drop of blood spurts out of it, and I wipe it away quickly on the table.

"Go ahead," the woman says briskly. I step past the table and push my way through the crowd, until I reach Delly, Peeta, and some other sixteens from Town. Delly is physically shaking at this point. The Reaping always terrifies her, even though she knows she has a slim chance of getting chosen. I place a hand on her arm. "Dell, it'll be okay. Promise," I say. "Madge is right," Peeta adds. He is cool as a cucumber, blond hair slicked back, hand me down white shirt buttoned perfectly. Peeta does not look scared, even if he is and is trying to hide it. "Your chances are so low. You will be fine." Delly doesn't respond, just shakes her head rapidly and continues to cower in fear.

Then the clock strikes two, and my father walks up to the microphone at the front of the stage, holding a rolled up piece of paper. This is the Treaty of the Treason, a document written by the Capitol at the end of the rebellion to show the districts who, exactly, was in charge. Dad unrolls the document and clears his throat. Then, he begins to read in a crisp, clear voice, describing the earthquakes, floods, droughts, and fires that ravaged the land we live on- a land that was once called North America. Then, out of the ashes, Panem was born. It consisted of a Capitol, the center of luxury, surrounded by 13 districts. The districts supplied the Capitol with all their needs and the Capitol, in turn, protected them. Then came the Dark Days, where the districts rebelled against the Capitol. They lost the war, but to show how utterly in control they are, the Capitol wiped out one district- 13 - and instituted something called The Hunger Games. Every year, at the same time, one boy and one girl tribute is chosen from each district, making 24 tributes in all. They are placed in an outdoor arena and forced to fight to the death until one remains. The victor is showered with wealth and food, given a new home in the Victors' Village in their district. But they are often used as Snow's puppets if they are a popular victor. There is no winner in the Hunger Games.

He finishes the reading with a statement that angers all of us, from the small children to the weathered elderly. "It is a time for repentance and a time for thanks." Yeah, right.

Dad then proceeds to read the short list of District 12 victors. We have had two in the past 75 years- only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy, the district's resident victor and drunk, staggers onto the stage when his name is read. He is a middle-aged men with a beer belly, greasy hair, and a scruffy beard. He flops into the chair that is reserved for him and yells something that is slurred and un-intelligible. The audience claps for him, following protocol, but instead of responding he turns and gives Effie Trinket a bear hug. Effie is the district escort- she reaps the tributes and gets them everywhere they need to be in anticipation of the Games. Today she is wearing a well-tailored bright green suit and a hot pink wig- one of many. She stays at my house when she comes to the district and I've seen her extensive wig collection. Just another reminder of the unfairness of the Capitol. There are people who can't barely get anything to eat and she has a hundred or more different hair pieces. Disgusting.

Effie attempts to wriggle out of Haymitch's grasp, as my father watches in horror. This is reflecting badly on District 12, and will make his attempts to work with the Capitol even more futile than they already are. Media is everything to the government- they pour their resources into districts that are popular in the Capitol. District 12 is one of the least favorite districts- our export, coal, is boring although essential, and our only celebrity is a fat drunk man. This means we get the least support from the Capitol, making everyone's lives harder.

Finally, Effie gets away from Haymitch and begins her walk to the microphone, simultaneously straightening her suit and placing a hand to her wig so it doesn't fall off of her head. When she reaches it, she plasters a large smile on her face and says, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She practices this in front of the mirror at home.

"As always... Ladies first!" It is time for the corpses to be chosen. She walks over to the big glass ball filled with the names of all the eligible girls in the district, reaches her hand deep into it, and pulls out a slip. It feels as though time slows down a she walks back to the microphone. Everyone is afraid in this moment. Even if they have the smallest chance of getting picked, like me. The air is heavy. Effie makes it to the microphone without her wig falling off and then opens the slip. She takes a deep breath and reads in a crisp voice, "Primrose Everdeen."

And that's when _everything_ changes.

**A/N: OOH, cliffhanger! Lol, not really if you've read the book which you undoubtedly have because why else would you be reading fan fiction? But anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Please review and tell me what you thought! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of The Hunger Games, duh. **


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